


(Lovers) On A Hotel Bed

by elliexer



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, PDA, Pining, Recovered Memories, um idk what else to tag this as i'm sure i'll think of it later LOL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:40:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22460371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliexer/pseuds/elliexer
Summary: It's been at least 20 years since Eddie and Richie last saw each other, and the memories flood back. But in certain cases, perhaps a little too slowly.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 83





	(Lovers) On A Hotel Bed

**Author's Note:**

> Title from ♫ Brothers on a Hotel Bed - Death Cab for Cutie
> 
> The song doesn't really have Much to do with this fic I just like it lol UM idk what to say here, Eddie and Richie meet again, they make out in The Jade Orient, and then they go back to the hotel and have a very adult conversation.

Eddie is watching the guppies and the koi swim about in the bubbling tank behind the table. He’s playing with the pills of fabric on his cardigan, pulling the sleeves over his hands. He can feel his heart in his throat, can feel the panic in his lungs but he swallows it down, focuses on the fish as they float, unaware of the horrors surrounding them. He wishes he could be a fish, wishes he could be anyone but who he is right now. It’s too much to remember. To many memories to have coming flooding back in such little time. And they aren’t still all here because he can’t really remember anyone, not yet. Not really. 

He remembers Mike the most, because Mike was the one to call him back. To call them all back. He remembers his kindness first and foremost, his care and his joy in seeing Eddie walk into the restaurant, remembers his comforting, tight hugs when Mike pulls him into one again for the first time in too many years. And slowly, as everyone trickles in one by one, he remembers them, too. 

Ben, who looks so different from the round, lovely boy he used to know, so long ago but, from his warm eyes settling on Beverly, he knows he hasn’t changed. Not that much. 

Beverly, sweet and persevering Bev. She’s beautiful, she always was, beneath all the bullshit. She was always brave, always so much braver than the rest of them, and she rarely got the credit for it. 

Bill makes his appearance quickly after, brave leader Bill and Eddie thinks, even as they stand arm in arm at the same height, that he’s still looking up at him. He’s still larger than life. 

Eddie fights with the fact that he forgot about them all. Can’t believe all these people, all his friends, who he bled for-- who bled for him… they they would just up and vanish from his mind. Evaporating from his memories like rain droplets in the hot, summer sun. 

Stan, he thinks suddenly, as he sees those curls come bouncing in, sweet smile on his lips as he turns to face Eddie, pearlescent scars on the sides of his face throwing another memory Eddie’s way, one he couldn’t place. Couldn’t properly set in stone. But the thought vanishes sooner than later as he remembers Stan, his very first best friend. And Eddie is tearing up as he turns from the aquarium to greet everyone properly.

The gong sounds off before he can, and Eddie is jolted from his thoughts, jumping nearly out of his skin as he turns to glare at the source.

And all of a sudden, it washes over him.

Warmth. Something he hadn’t felt in years; decades. This warm, cloying feeling inside him like nothing else in the world mattered, like all he needed to feel right again was to be close to him. It settles, deep in his gut like the cacophony of butterflies that always used to flap their wings against the lining of his stomach when he spotted him like this, so many years ago. In surprise, in quiet contentment. The need, the desire, to be close to him, to talk to him, to love him. And he’s right here, he’s right there, right in front of him cracking stupid jokes just like he always used to, just like he still did. And of course he still did, of course he had to, and Eddie’s only thoughts are how much he loved him once. How much he still did, this feeling didn’t lie. It didn’t pretend to be anything else and Eddie couldn’t feel anything but the need to pull him in. To hold him close, to tell him. To see him again. 

He’s always wanted to do this, and now that he has the chance he can’t stop himself. Because to stop himself now would be too painful to bare. Eddie is nearly tripping over his feet to run the short distance that keeps them apart, and it feels like jumping a canyon, like jumping off a familiar cliff to the water below. To the outstretched arms of six friends he who loved more like family. And he can’t stop, even if he wanted to, even if he should, because it’s--

“Richie!” he exclaims, throwing his arms around his shoulders. 

“Eds--!” 

Richie’s words are cut off by a chorus of soft, _whoa’s_ from their friends around them, and Eddie closes his eyes, pulling Richie down and down to kiss him harder, their lips pressed bruisingly together as Eddie melts into him. Richie’s hand slowly settles to rest around Eddie’s waist and immediately Eddie kisses harder, thinking thoughts he suddenly thinks he shouldn’t. How big his hands are, how tall he’d gotten, how big he was… but still Richie all the same. And there’s a storm brewing behind this kiss, and Eddie can feel it but, when Richie begins to kiss him back, it all melts away. Eddie all but whines against his mouth. He can’t think straight, can’t fathom what could possibly be eating away at him now, what that feeling is, what that panic rising in his throat could be. He had wanted this so badly, so long ago-- why couldn’t he-- what stopped him-- what--

 _Oh._

Eddie freezes, eyes widening as he breaks the kiss in an instant and pulls back, nearly toppling over a chair in his effort to back away. Richie stands there, dazed and confused for a long moment, fingers brushing his lips, slightly swollen from the impact of Eddie’s and Eddie can’t breathe. He’s wheezing, he needs to get out of here. 

He doesn’t even look at anyone as he whirls around and grabs his bag, toppling over a glass on the table as he does, sending it shattering to the floor. Eddie doesn’t stop despite the crash, ducking out of the restaurant without another word, the shouts of his friends sounding like a distorted melody behind him. 

Eddie doesn’t get far into the night before he hears the shouting of his name behind him, and Eddie walks quicker toward his car. He scrambles for his keys in his pocket, promptly dropping them as his shaky hands fumble to keep hold. He crouches down to pick them up from the damp, dark parking lot, the asphalt illuminated in the neon buzzing of lights overhead, and he can’t see through the burning in his eyes as he swears into the cool, autumn night. 

“Shit, shit, motherfucker!” 

“And you guys called me Trashmouth, yeesh,” and Eddie stands so quickly that he’s got stars on the edges of his vision, blood rushing in his ears as he whirls around to see the last person he wants to see right now. 

“Shut the _fuck_ up, dickwad!” 

He’s furious, not at Richie, of course not, but who better to take it out on? 

“Whoa, Eds. Chill, man”. 

Eddie blinks, a hand on his temple as he leans against his rental car to catch himself, “Don’t fucking tell me to calm down,” he breathes, wagging a finger threatningly in Richie’s direction, “and don’t fucking call me that!”

Richie reaches out, as if to help steady him, “I-- okay, Eddie. I’m sorry, just. Come on, are you alright?” 

Eddie feels his blood boiling beyond the point of control, and he can’t believe how stupidly dense Richie is. Why did he even follow him out here? To fuck with him? To call him names? To make fun of him? Like he always did… like he did in those fucking comedy specials. To tell him, with vindication, to his face, that he knew all along that Eddie was a-- a--

“Don’t fucking touch me, Tozier”. 

Richie pauses in an instant, like a TV remotes’ controlling his actions, and then he pulls his hands away, tucking them in the pockets of his jacket. Eddie notes, with a very damning guilt rolling around inside him, that he looks like a kicked puppy the whole while.

“Eds--” Eddie glares pointedly at him, expecting Richie to correct himself but, Richie doesn’t. And he doesn’t apologize. He just says it again, “Eds, whats going on, man?”

Eddie blinks, looks up at him incredulously, wild eyed and unabashedly stunned. What kind of batshit stupid question was that?! What the fuck! Richie doesn’t wait for him to answer. 

“I don’t know the answer, but I want to because I think I have a guess and-- I really fucking hope I’m right because if I’m not, this is gonna make my next question really fucking embarrassing”. 

Eddie furrows his brow, steadying himself again, “what question?” 

“Eds-- fuck,” Richie pulls a hand from his pocket and runs his hand through his hair. Eddie forces himself to look anywhere else. This wasn’t allowed. This wasn’t okay. That’s what he had always understood. Even if, once upon a time, for just a little while, Eddie in his naive childish wonder thought that maybe, just maybe, it might be. And for a second, just a moment here tonight, he felt it again. But he learned the truth once, and he was learning it once more, even if it was painful. It was an accident, it was because he didn’t fully remember. It didn’t mean anything, he hopes he can say. _It didn’t mean shit, Rich. I swear I’m not gay, I swear I’m not I just missed you, that’s all. It was just overwhelming, I just--_

“Can I kiss you?”

“What?” Eddie blinks, and Richie ducks his head, his cheeks turning pink in the neon light that bathes the parking lot. Eddie’s mouth runs dry. 

“Please don’t make me ask again. I don’t think I--” 

Eddie takes a tentative, slow step forward, placing a shaky hand on Richie’s hip, the other sliding up to cup his cheek. And, thankfully, Richie isn’t as dense as he looks. 

Richie rests a hand on Eddie’s waist, the other moving to rest on top of Eddie’s against his face, and he leans down. Eddie reaches up, cranes his neck as Richie melts into him, over top of him, and Eddie sinks back down onto the flats of his shoes, pushed against his car as Richie steadies himself, a hand reaching down from his cheek to rest against the frame. There’s a moment there, pregnant with questions and answers that neither of them had the guts to ask or to admit, at least not yet, and then in an instant, Richie and Eddie meet in the middle, their lips crashing together harshly, softly. All at once. It’s passionate, its slow, and Eddie melts against him, in awe of the moment. In stunned silence, the two pull away for just a second before Eddie is cupping Richie’s cheeks in both hands and pulling him down, down, down to press their lips together again, licking at Richie’s bottom lip to coax him, and Richie parts his lips, much to Eddie’s silent delight. He tongues his way in, meeting Richie again, licking behind his teeth, pulling him down and down into him like he couldn’t get enough of him.

He can feel the cool touch of Richie’s glasses pressing into his cheek and Eddie could care less because, he’s here. He’s right here, in his arms. Richie is here with him, and those stupid fucking glasses on his face, digging into blushed skin are just another reminder that Richie was kissing him. That he had always wanted Richie to kiss him. That he’d always wanted Richie. And he can’t believe this, can’t believe Richie seemingly wanted this just as much as he did. It’s almost too much. 

Richie pulls away, for just a moment, just a quick second but Eddie whines in his absence, like a petulant child, pulling him in again to press their lips together. And Richie is laughing, and Eddie is smiling, and Richie pulls away again. Eddie follows him up, chases his lips, and Richie pulls his glasses off his face, pushing them up to rest on top of his head before he pushes Eddie against the car, dipping down to catch Eddie’s lips again, open mouthed, warm and wet. Eddie feels the burn of Richie’s stubble against his mouth but he could care less. He sighs against him, feels his eyes burn behind closed lids, feels the wetness on his cheeks before he even realizes he’s crying. And Richie just keeps kissing him, just keeps pressing into him like he couldn’t get their bodies close enough together and Eddie just lets him tower over, shield him from the rain, hold him closer and closer until there’s hardly any space left between them.

He can feel him. Every part of him, soft and warm and so _Richie_. Through and through. The gangly limbs, the solidness of underlying muscle, the warmth of the radiator that must hide beneath his skin like a furnace, hot to the touch even in the cold, wet rain that pours over them both. The October chill tries it’s hardest to push into Eddie like needle points against his skin but Richie just wraps him up, just kisses him harder and all at once Eddie feels smouldering hot. The sound of the rain around them roars to a pour and Eddie is soaked to the bone, shivering in Richie’s arms but they keep going, they keep pressing into each other. It’s too much to let go, even as they both struggle to catch their breath as they finally pull apart from the kiss. They pant, foggy breaths wrapping around them and Eddie blinks a raindrop out of his eye, looking up at Richie as if he’s the sun. 

And Richie looks down at him like he’s the same, orbiting around one another in an endless loop of gravity that pulls them closer and closer together. A pattern put in place, an infinite amount of years ago, older than either of them. Older than anything. Like the universe was created just for them. Like they were the only two people here. 

Eddie can’t find the words behind his panted breaths, can’t think of a thing to say, and suddenly he’s thankful for Richie’s inability to shut up. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” he breathes, and Eddie blinks, shudders in the cold, and then he laughs, and he laughs and laughs as he shivers, doubling over into his hysterics as Richie takes a small step back. “Eds?” he asks, and there’s the smallest thorn of worry stuck there, and Eddie recognizes it only because he’d felt the same. 

He looks up, and he pushes his thumbs through the belt loops of Richie’s Levi’s, pulling him in closer by the hips, looking up at him as he captivates all his attention. He thinks, for a long moment, endlessly in fact, about everything. About nothing at all. He thinks about the way Richie is staring down at him, the peppering of pink along his skin. The droplets of water, heavy and thick that roll down his face in endless rivers and Eddie sees how red Richie’s eyes are. He doesn’t know which are tears and which are rain droplets but, for just a moment. Just a second, he thinks maybe the universe itself is crying for them. So, they must be tear drops either way. 

“I do love you, I always have, Rich,” Eddie whispers, and Richie watches him speak, and Eddie feels anything but embarrassed. Anything but worried or anxious. He feels warm, he feels heard, he feels understood. In the way only Richie knew how to make him feel. “Always”. 

Richie stares a moment longer, a beat, before he covers his face with his hands and he leans down, a sob wracking through his chest as he rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie’s breath catches and he wraps his arms around him, holds him close, resting his cheek against his soaked hair. 

“I love you, too,” Richie rasps from Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie lets out a shaky laugh, hugging Richie tighter as they stand there, in the deafening silence of the night.

. . .

After about five minutes of looking for Eddie’s keys before remembering he’d dropped them, Richie and Eddie climb into the car, pausing for a moment before Eddie puts his key in the ignition to craft a text message to the rest of their friends that they more than likely would be skipping out on dinner to talk. Alone. Beverly just sends a fucking emoji of two eyes and Eddie wants to wring her neck but, he calms himself down, tries to focus, and turns his key.

They make it back to the hotel in record speed, and slowly climb the stairs toward Richie’s room, toppling in in a heap of limbs and soft words as Richie unlocks the door with a swipe of his keycard, shutting it quiet and slow behind them before Eddie is pushing him against the door, hands on his shoulders, pushing his jacket off. 

Richie shrugs it away, leaving it in a heap on the floor and Eddie wastes no time unbuttoning his shirt, leaving it open as he focuses then on leaving flittering bruises along the skin of Richie’s throat and the sharp curve of his collar bones. Richie sighs against him, melting against the door as Eddie pushes off his shirt, slowly down his arms. Richie lets it fall, and as Eddie reaches down to begin fiddling with his belt buckle, Richie gathers him up in his arms and holds him close, turning them around so that Richie can step backward onto the bed. They topple down, as Eddie lets out a surprised shout, landing on Richie’s chest. Richie cups his cheeks and Eddie crawls up in his guiding hand to press a kiss to the altar, to his lips. And they pull away, just like before, just quick enough to look at one another, before they kiss again. And again, and they keep going. Because neither of them had it in them to stop. 

They didn’t have to. It was as if the world was on pause around them, and as Eddie sat up, slow and carefully, he twisted his wedding band from his finger. He leaned over, Richie’s fingers teasing the hem of his soaked polo before slipping up under to tease damp skin. The soft plink of his ring on the nightstand left Richie dizzy, but he didn’t have it in himself to care. Eddie loved him, and Richie knew, and Eddie knew, that this was different. This was not something that either of them would forget. This was everything, all at once. This was going to change everything, and they both, perhaps hastily, invited that change. So long as it came with the promise, in the end, that they’d never be apart again. 

Eddie sighs at Richie’s touch, feels his fingers drag through the dark hair that trailed up his belly to his chest, and Richie’s breath hitches beneath him. Eddie shrugs off his dripping sweater, and Richie pushes his polo up and up until Eddie grabs onto it and tugs it over his head, throwing it out into the darkness of the room. The streetlights flood them in pale, white light and Eddie reaches over once more to find the lamp on the table, warm orange in contrast as it pools over them in a sea of soft light. And Eddie can see him, below his soaked black tee and it’s Eddie’s turn to touch. 

He gently tugs at the fabric, pushes his hands up under his shirt, and Richie takes the hint. He sits up, tugs off his shirt, and his glasses fall askew on his nose, hair wet and flying about his head and Eddie thinks, _he’s never looked better,_ just as he had every time he ever thought that before. Eddie reaches back down, fumbling with Richie’s belt buckle, leaning down to kiss him, soft and slow as he unzips his pants, unbuttons them, and reaches inside. He paws at him, feels him half hard already, and Richie moans against his mouth. Eddie swallows it down, moaning in return, disbelief flooding him like a dam breaking. He feels it in his lungs, feels it in his heart. And he has to pull away, stop his movements for a long moment to just cup Richie’s face and stare down at him. 

Richie looks up in return, eyes hooded heavily, cheeks dusted in a heated blush that leaves blood rushing to Eddie’s groin, growing hard against Richie’s stomach and Richie flicks his eyes down as he feels him grow against him. Eddie smiles down at him, leans in again, and kisses him slow and steady, drinking down every noise, every movement, every breath. He didn’t want this to be frantic, or quick, or needy. He wanted to remember. 

He wanted to remember every time Richie twitched in his hand. He wanted to remember the way his brows furrowed and knotted up at Eddie sunk down, wanted to remember how he sat up on his elbows to look down at him with such adoration that Eddie nearly shot up to push his face back down because he felt so seen. But, he realizes, mouthing Richie through the fabric of his boxers, that there’s nothing better. There is nothing better than being seen by Richie Tozier. 

“Eds--” Richie sighs, his head lolling back as he moans his name, and Eddie looks up, catches the bob of his throat as he swallows. Eddie watches him, watches the rise and fall of his broad chest, dusted with soft, dark hair, decorating his soft stomach, dipping below the waist band of his boxers. And Eddie can’t take it anymore himself, but it’s Richie’s pleading that spurs him on. “Please, Eds… Eddie, I can’t--” 

“I got you,” Eddie whispers, so sweet he hardly recognizes it as his own voice and Richie whines, covering his mouth with his palm as Eddie pulls him, dripping and swollen, from the opening of his boxers. He pumps once, then twice, and Richie’s breath catches in his throat as he bites down on his knuckle to be quiet, trying and trying to be quiet but Eddie reaches up, taps his elbow, and Richie meets his eye. 

“I wanna hear you,” he says, punctuating this statement, as if to drive it home, with a long lick up the length of Richie’s cock. Richie whines, falls back against the bed, wrapping his legs around Eddie’s waist. 

“I fucking love you,” Richie cries as Eddie mouths the head of Richie’s dripping cock, licking slow and teasingly, leaving Richie helpless to catch his breath. 

“I love you too,” Eddie whispers back, hot breath against the underside of Richie’s length as he slowly takes him in his mouth, pushing down as far as he can before it becomes too much, bobbing his head slow, easily falling into a rhythm. Richie is a mess at this point, practically purring Eddie’s name, drooling onto his hand as he tries still to keep quiet. Eddie looks up at him, meets his eye, and Richie chokes on a breath. Eddie’s looking up at him, all dark eyes and furrowed brow, Richie’s cock in his fucking mouth like it wasn’t a big deal and Richie twitches between his lips and the motherfucker _smirks_ at him around the head of his cock. Richie moans, crying out into the night, trying to find the words on the tip of his tongue, trying to keep talking. But, it’s harder than it looks, harder than Richie ever thought. He never had this much trouble with anyone else, never struggled to catch his breath or to find the words he wanted to say. But with Eddie? He’s speechless. 

“I-- Eds… ah… please, please I can’t… more…”

Eddie’s ears pique at this, and he looks up to see Richie covering his eyes with his arms, fingers wrapped up in the sheets until he’s white knuckled and shaking and Eddie blinks, pulling away just a moment to admire him. Had he done this? Had Eddie put Richie into this state? Something about this realization only makes Eddie want to drag this out longer, see Richie like this for even a minute more. But at the same time, he wants to see him come undone, too. Wants to give him that. Wants to be the cause. 

So he decides on the latter, running a soft hand through the coarse hair decorating Richie’s inner thighs before sneaking his hands back up to pull down Richie’s jeans and boxers, his cock bouncing free, finally. Eddie tosses his jeans and boxers over the side of the bed. He dips back down without warning, taking Richie into his mouth free handed, tonguing at him as he bobs his head. Richie gasps, wrapping his legs around Eddie as Eddie wraps his arms around Richie’s hips, pulling the both of them closer together. Richie hides his face behind his hands, but he moans into the lightning streaked night, calling out Eddie’s name through the paper thin walls without a care. 

Eddie keeps up his work, feels Richie grow in his mouth, feels him twitch, tastes him dripping, salty on his tongue. Eddie pulls off to pump at him a moment, to breathe. 

“Am I-- is this okay?” he asks slowly, looking down at Richie as a blush blooms across the flesh of his chest, and he nods bodily, breath shaky as he pulls his hands from his face. 

“Perfect… so good, Eds. I can’t-- I’m… it’s you,” he whispers, and Eddie smiles, tearing up. He still can’t believe it. All that worrying, all that fear… and all along, they loved each other just the same. And now, they were here together, and it was all worth it. All of it. To be here with Richie. 

“It’s me, Rich,” he replies, throat raw as he holds back his tears again, nodding his head. And Richie bucks into his hand, crying out, laughing to himself, manic on the edge as Eddie reminds him. “It’s me… I’m right here, okay? I got you, Rich. I got you”. 

“I know,” Richie whimpers, looking up, then down as Eddie sinks back to take Richie onto his tongue, hot and heavy and Richie sighs, “fuck, I know, Eds”. 

Eddie smiles up at him, bobs his head, picks up his rhythm, and Richie is reaching down to gently card through Eddie’s hair. Eddie looks up at him as he taps his head, blushing so brightly he’s practically glowing. Eddie pulls off, “whats up?” 

“Don’t stop, I just-- fuck I’m gonna…”

Eddie blinks, his hand still pumping slow around Richie’s cock and he looks back down, eyes him as he looks up again, before sinking down onto his cock like it didn’t phase him. And Richie cries out, whines, whimpers, bucking up into Eddie’s mouth before slamming his hips back down, apologizing hastily. 

Eddie pulls off again, lips brushing along the head of Richie’s cock as he whispers, “I told Rich,” he says, soft but certain, “I’ve got you”. 

Richie gasps as Eddie sinks down again, and it’s only a few more times before he’s crying out and trying to pull away, but Eddie holds him down, holds him in place as Richie falls from the precipice, coating Eddie’s throat as he swallows it down, squeezing his eyes shut as he keeps pumping his hand. Richie breathes back to life, falling against the bed in a heap as he pants, eyeing Eddie through the cracks between his fingers. He’s blushing so much Eddie’s surprised his dick was as hard as it was with all the blood rushing to his cheeks. Eddie slides off of him as Richie begins to soften on his tongue. He looks up after a long moment to catch his eye and Richie looks spent. Wrecked. And Eddie’s never felt prouder in his entire life. 

“You got me,” he whispers, and Eddie blinks before bursting into laughter, crawling up to press a kiss to Richie’s cheek, pressing their foreheads together. 

“I told you”. 

“You-- yeah you told me,” Richie still sounds incredulous, taking his time coming down and Eddie just giggles, running his fingers through Richie’s hair the whole while, resting his head on his chest. 

“I love you,” Richie whispers after a few minutes, and Eddie looks up at him, eyes heavy as he smiles, says it back with everything in him. 

“I love you, too”. 

And then, without any warning, Richie has him flipped over onto his back. Richie looms over him, tall and brilliantly illuminated, haloed in the warm orange-yellow glow of the bedside table and Eddie feels his mouth go dry. He stares up at him, eyes wide as Richie leans in to kiss him, soft and slow but heated, and growing more passionate as they go. Richie licks into his mouth, and Eddie moans against his tongue, shuddering in his touch as Richie runs his hands down his sides. He thumbs at the button of Eddie’s slacks, sliding them down easily enough and Eddie can feel himself getting hard again. He’s solid when Richie pulls off his briefs, leaving them around his ankles. Eddie pulls one leg free to wrap around Richie’s broad shoulders as said man leans in and takes all of Eddie into his mouth, chasing drool down his length until Eddie feels himself hit the back of Richie’s throat and he gasps, hips bucking just slightly and Richie coughs, pulling up to adjust his glasses on his face before pushing down again, wrapping his huge hands around Eddie’s hips to hold him in place. And Eddie feels his brain melt in his head, his heart hammering in his chest as if it wanted to escape between the cracks in his ribs. Richie bobs his head, wrapping Eddie up in him, and all Eddie can do is let it happen. 

“Shit-- Jesus fucking Christ, _Richie,_ ” he cries, biting his lip as Richie looks up and winks at him, “Oh my God…” 

Eddie throws his head back, moans out into the quiet comfort of the room, letting himself go as he melts into Richie’s touch, writhing beneath him on the bed as Richie holds him down. Eddie’s briefs hang from his ankle as he wraps his legs tight around Richie, pushing him down to take him all, and Richie gladly does it, or at least he tries, and Eddie’s the one drooling now, arching his back, bucking his hips into Richie’s hot mouth, crying out. 

“Fuck… Rich, I’m gonna…” 

Richie doesn’t let up, doesn’t pull off, and Eddie cries out, whimpers. Richie just keeps going, looking up at him, watching his face and Eddie feels that comfort wash over him again, the comfort of being seen. Here, alone in the universe. Alone with Richie. And he feels that coil unravel, spilling onto Richie’s awaiting tongue, his mouth open as he pumps Eddie’s cock with his hand, drinking him down after milking every last drop from him. Eddie is shaking, back arching, tense as anything before he falls, hips shaking as he rests into the cloud of the mattress beneath him and Richie crawls back up to meet him. He kisses him hard and Eddie tries his hardest to kiss him back but, he’s a fucking rag doll as Richie giggles into his neck, pressing soft kisses down his throat in retaliation for earlier. 

“Fuck…” Eddie whispers, covering his eyes with his palms, and Richie gently pushes his hands away as he crawls back up. He’s right there, right in front of him, staring down at him, and Eddie pants, swallows thickly, and Richie smiles down at him, brown eyes magnified through his glasses. And Eddie can see everything in them, the universe, the world, their lives. The answers to every question he’d never dared to ask. 

“I love you,” Richie whispers, and Eddie just smiles, tears stinging his eyes as he nods his head. Richie settles in next to him, pulls him close, buries his head against Eddie’s chest. 

“I love you, too," Eddie whispers back, wrapping Richie up in his arms, holding him closer and closer still.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi thanks i haven't written m/m smut in like, ages so sorry if this sucks i'm a dyke DFKGHDKJFBG


End file.
